


Breakfast with Ferb

by shopgirl152



Series: Friend Dates [6]
Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Breakfast, Comfort, Cooking, F/M, Friendship, Frustration, Growing Up, Guys Night Out Spinoff, Humor, Hurt, Relationship Talk, Teenagers, making breakfast, venting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 15:37:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1190496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shopgirl152/pseuds/shopgirl152
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's rough loving a guy who doesn't notice you. For Isabella, it can be downright frustrating; her friends are sick of hearing it and Buford and Baljeet don't understand. But the one person Isabella never expected to understand is the very one to offer her comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breakfast with Ferb

**Author's Note:**

> Picks up literally where Guys Night Out left off.

Isabella allowed Ferb to lead her inside, waiting for the teenager to walk over to the refrigerator before sitting down at the table. “What’s for breakfast?” He held up a carton of milk and eggs. “What kind of eggs?”

“Whatever you like.”

“Can I request pancakes too? You know, along with the eggs?”

He reached up into the cupboard, pulling down several boxes of pancake mix and setting them in front of her, pointing to each box in turn.

“Umm…wow, they all look so good. How about…” she pointed to a box. “This one. The chocolate chip one.” She sighed as Ferb took the box, placing it on the counter before putting the rest in the cupboard. “I don’t know Ferb. I mean, I like being friends with Phineas, but…it would be nice if I meant more to him than just a friend. That’s not to much to ask right?”

He shook his head, reaching into a cabinet and pulling out a wooden spoon, mixing bowls, a measuring cup, measuring spoons and a frying pan. The gentle click of the burner was heard as he turned on the gas stove, pouring oil into the pan.

Isabella smiled. “You’re pretty good at that. I’m kind of sad I’ve never come over for breakfast before.” The other teen shot her a confused look and she clarified. “I mean, come over when you’re cooking breakfast. Although…you probably have cooked breakfast before…maybe I wasn’t here…” she paused in thought. “Have I been here for breakfast before?”

“Mom’s cooking?”

“That’s probably it.” She pounded her forehead with a fist. “Maybe it’s me.” Ferb looked over his shoulder at her before cracking two eggs into the pan. “Maybe I try to hard. Maybe if I didn’t try to flirt with Phineas, it would be…”

“Easier?”

She blew out a frustrated puff of air. “No. Flirting with him doesn’t matter; he doesn’t even notice.” A low chuckle escaped her lips. “He didn’t notice when we were ten; why would he notice now?” She watched her friend a moment.

“Eggs?”

“Scrambled.” Isabella drummed her fingers on the table. “It’s not like I haven’t tried to get over him; I have. But it never works.” She smiled as Ferb set a plate of scrambled eggs in front of her, motioning to the salt and pepper. “Salt.” He handed over the shaker. “Thanks Ferb.”

He gave her a thumbs up before heading back to the stove, placing the frying pan in the sink and running water into it before turning off the stove. He knelt down, rummaging under the kitchen counter before emerging with a griddle. He set it on the counter and plugged it in, motioning to Isabella before motioning to the pancake mix.

“Uh…three. I guess. I’m not really hungry.” He raised a brow at her and she laughed. “Okay, maybe a little hungry. I’ve been up since four. After calling Phineas this morning, I was to wired to go back to sleep. Sorry for showing up so early.”

“No harm done.” He greased the griddle before pouring the pancake mix into a bowl, adding water and oil before reaching into the refrigerator and grabbing two eggs. He whistled as he stirred.

“See, that’s just it though; I woke up this morning unable to sleep and because Phin told me I could call him anytime, I called.” She paused, a forkful of eggs halfway to her mouth. “I guess he was with you and the rest of the guys? I thought I heard Buford and Baljeet in the background.”

Ferb nodded in confirmation.

“Right. Anyway…see, that’s what always happens. I’ve done it before. I talk to him and then I’m so wired, I can’t sleep. It’s just… _ugh_!”

He watched as Isabella got up from the table, pacing back and forth across the kitchen, hands clenched into fists at her sides.

“And then, I try to get over him, but it just never works! Because he does something cute. First it was the inventions and I fell in love with his creativity and his optimism. But now, it’s things like going on friend dates with him and him being sweet and showing me the bright side of things and teaching me new ways of how to view the world. Or it’s something stupid like how cute he looks in his jeans and white t-shirt, or how adorable he is when he wears his hat backwards!”

He smirked at her.

“Don’t patronize me Ferb.” She stopped pacing, glaring at him. “Hat backwards. It’s cute. Don’t ask me why, because even I can’t explain it.” She sat down. “Seriously, one time, he was wearing his baseball cap backwards—like he always does—and I could _not stop staring at him_. If my leg was long enough, I would have kicked myself.” The young woman stared off into space a moment. “Then he asked me if I was alright and…I did what I always do; I flubbed.”

He finished stirring the pancake mix, spooning the mixture onto the griddle, making three circles with the batter.

Isabella smiled. “And then there are times like the one I just told you about. When he asked if I was alright, it gave me butterflies and…” she sighed happily. “My heart soared.” She sighed again. “What’s wrong with me Ferb?”

The teenager peeked under a pancake, flipping it over before turning to her. “Absolutely nothing. You are a woman in love.”

She snorted. “Yeah. With someone whose been oblivious for six years. Seriously, what’s the point?”

He flipped over another pancake. “Is he worth it?”

“Yes.” The word came out in a rush and she clamped a hand over her mouth.

Ferb flipped the third pancake over, watching the bubbles on the surface before scooping up the other two, sliding them onto a plate. After another minute, he scooped up the third one, adding it to the plate. He went back to the refrigerator, opening it and emerging with two strawberries.

“What are you doing?”

He merely smiled as he brought the strawberries over to the counter, cutting them up.

Isabella got up from her seat, walking over to where he was standing, only for the teenager to hold out a hand, stopping her.

“Sit.”

“But—“

He turned around, shooting her a look before motioning to the table.

“Fine.” She sat back down, drumming her fingers on the table. “Maybe when it comes to Phineas, I should just roll with it. Have no expectations. See what happens. Maybe he’ll wake up one day and realize he loves me.” She frowned. “Or he won’t and we’ll be in the friend zone forever.” She pushed her plate away, laying her head on the table. “It’s hopeless.” She looked up as something tapped her arm.

Ferb slid a plate in front of her and Isabella looked down, finding a stack of three pancakes in front of her, complete with strawberry eyes and a nose. He smirked, shaking a can of whipped cream before making a smiling mouth.

“Really Ferb? Really?”

He shrugged, shooting some whipped cream into his mouth before placing the cap back on the container. “Just trying to offer comfort is all.”

She sighed, picking at the whipped cream. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just, I get so frustrated over this whole Phineas thing that it just— _ugh_!” She jabbed a strawberry with her fork, shoving the fruit in her mouth.

Ferb smirked as he sat down across from her, pouring himself a bowl of Cheerios before adding milk. “No need to impale the pancake man; he’s an innocent party.”

She looked down at the pancake. “He has one eye.”

“He does.”

“I impaled him.” Isabella looked down at the pancake, a laugh escaping her lips. She put a hand to her mouth before removing it. “Oh Ferb, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dump all this on you. It’s just that lately, I feel like I have no one to talk to about this; Buford and Baljeet don’t understand and the girls are sick of hearing it.” She shook her head as Ferb passed her a clean fork and knife. “Thanks.” She began to cut into the pancake stack. “Buford and Baljeet have a better relationship.”

He raised a brow.

“Okay, maybe not better. But seriously, how does Baljeet manage to catch a guy?”

“You forget who he’s dating.”

She snorted. “Yeah, you’re right.” The two friends ate in silence, the only sound being that of the clock on the wall as the utensils clinked against the plates.

\------------------------------

“Thanks for letting me vent Ferb. And for making breakfast.” Isabella stood outside the front door. “I’m serious; you should make a career out of cooking. I bet you’d get a lot of business; those pancakes were delicious.”

He smiled.

“Well, I’d better be going. Tell Phin to come and find me when he wakes up.” She couldn’t hide the smile. “I’m excited to tell him what I came up with for our friend date night.” A slight blush crept up her cheeks. “When I can’t sleep after I’ve talked to him, I write down ideas.” Her eyes widened. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

Ferb pretended to zip his lip, throwing the imaginary key over his shoulder.

“Thanks Ferb.” She smiled. “I know you’re quiet and we don’t talk much, but…I think you’re a great friend and I’m very happy I can talk to you about things. Whether it’s Phineas or something else.” She hugged him. “Good-bye Ferb.”

He returned the hug, waving as she made her way down the front walk and across the street to her house. He shut the front door, heading back towards the kitchen.

“Hey Bro.” He looked up, watching as his brother slowly walked downstairs, rubbing his eyes. “You’re still up? I thought you’d—wait, did you make pancakes?”

He nodded.

“Dude, why didn’t you tell me?!” Phineas grinned, running into the kitchen. He stopped, looking around. “I thought you said you made pancakes.”

“I did.”

“Where are they?”

He arched a brow at his brother.

“Oh. Right. You probably ate them already.” The red head sniffed the air. “Can you make me some?”

Ferb walked over to the counter, picking up the bowl and spoon before shoving them into his brother’s arms. “I am not a short order cook; make them yourself.” His eyes fell on the backwards, mud stained baseball cap his brother was still wearing and he chuckled.

“What?”

“Cute.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing.”

“Dude, come on. Tell me.”

“Nope. Not telling.” He smirked, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans before leaving the kitchen.

“Ferb, what was so funny? What were you chuckling at? Bro!” Phineas took several steps toward the door to the living room, peeking his head around the corner. “Bro! What—“ he looked down, grinning as he pulled the spoon out of the bowl, licking it. “Mm. Pancake batter.”


End file.
